


Dancing Lessons

by Cypreus



Series: The Changing Seasons [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, no comfort, some violence, unless you consider Claude lying to himself comforting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypreus/pseuds/Cypreus
Summary: One step forward, two steps back. The three young lords and their professor reflect on their lives at different moments in time.





	Dancing Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> This got way out of hand. I was going for 500 words.

_You can’t stay._  
  
Byleth knows this for a fact. Knows that whatever bonds are made here will eventually fade with time. Knows that there is nothing that can be done about the lives of these children but train their skills in battle and hope they all survive. It is summer now. And summer brings with it the excitement of an inter house dance lesson. It seems then that this is a time worth living in.  
  
Every single one of these young students have bright futures ahead of them.  
  
_You're a liar. _  
  
They can grasp destiny with their own hands.  
  
_Liar._  
  
Byleth lies. Because the truth is never easy; isn’t easy to watch as the academy teaches the greenest leaves how to turn brown. How to live the lives of warriors, of people destined to fight. Destined to die.  
  
Byleth doesn’t smile here.  
  
Demons don’t deserve to smile, not when they see children run towards a future promising death, and all they do is watch.  
  
“Teach, are you listening?” Claude’s green eyes shine briefly with curiosity.   
  
His warm smiles always feel so cold to the professor. This is the boy who plans. The boy who watches. The boy who never trusts. The warm colours of his house do nothing to hide the chill in his empty eyes.   
  
“My apologies Claude, I missed that.”  
  
The young man only grins in his usual charming way. Always hiding something, that one.  
  
Byleth is only waiting for the inevitable end.   
  
It seems that Claude is too.  
  
  
  
  
Edelgard watches them from the corner of her eyes. Idiots. Claude had just swooped in, yellow cape flashing in the ballroom as he rescues the snow prince from his dance partner, trying for the last time to stop her hands from wandering.  
  
Claude grasps his hand and places the other on Dimitri’s shoulder. The prince’s face had been red for at least two songs now.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“What’s it look like? I’m helping you."  
  
She hears their clipped conversation. Dimitri’s stuttering and Claude’s annoyingly charming murmurs as she and her partner dance in the centre of the room.  
  
“I-I’m not jealous-”  
  
“Then why do you keep looking in their direction?”  
  
Lilac eyes catch green as Claude winks at her. He’s planning something again.  
  
“Dip me.”  
  
It shouldn’t be possible for Dimitri’s face to be redder.  
  
“No? Suit yourself.” Claude trips the taller boy backwards, catching him just in time before he bends too far back from the waist.  
  
Edelgard catches his wide eyed shock as he stares at her from upside down. Mirth bubbles from the middle of her stomach threatening to bring uproarious cackling laughter to the surface. She only smiles serenely.   
  
_A princess of the empire must be gracious, bold and above all _  
  
“One must be properly disoriented before he is brave enough to steal another man’s woman.”  
  
_Composed_  
  
She hears the quick rush of wind before she feels the body that bumps into her. A figure in blue is frozen in place when she turns. She looks the prince in the eyes; summer had brought out faint little flecks of stars dancing on his skin.   
  
“W-would you care to dance?”  
  
It is in these moments she forgets that an empire awaits her ascension. She forgets, as she feels the warmth of his body so close, that she is a princess bound to lead, that he is a prince tied to his duties. That Claude is heir to a council of backstabbers, that their classmates, their friends, _her_ friends are all burdened with the weight of the world. But it’s warm now and she can’t help but reach towards this peace knowing even then that it will never last.  
  
  
  
  
He had known the feeling of warmth from his time at the academy, of spring rain and an autumn that feels nothing at the sight of death. A necessity in the cycle of life. He should have stayed in the cold where he belongs. Unable to be scrutinised by _her_ warmth or _his_ cold calculations.  
  
She moves gracefully just as she always has, with a fierceness in her eyes that can only be seen when she is in motion. One foot after the other, he leads them in this dance. With howling cries and a swing of her sword, she pushes him back. He responds with two steps forward - first to block her sword, second to aim at her openings - and one step back. She is unprepared for his winter, tired limbs no doubt numb from the cold.  
  
Dimitri knew this would be the end for him. Knew that Claude was in the shadows waiting for the right time to strike. And if Claude was bright, which the archer has proved many times over, that he would strike at the one with the most fight left. Dimitri feels the burning pierce of a holy weapon at his back pushing him forward.  
  
Just like then, a long time ago, his friend pushes him towards her knowing she would catch him. Whether by arms or by sword, he doesn’t care. He never cared.  
  
And the prince, as before, let himself fall. Her sword piercing straight through his chest.  
  
There had been a time. Yes, a time when her walls came down and her heart was open. Her face now is closed off. Masked by time and hurts too numerous to count. He wants to see her again.   
  
“Ed...el-” Lungs collapse, his single vision growing dim.   
  
She's held him like this, he recalls. When they were younger, kinder, braver. Brave enough to let themselves be held close. To leave their hearts open. To leave their burdens behind. She had been braver, with face flushed and tears running from her eyes. She was not afraid to let her walls down. She’s held him like this. And she swore she would never let go.   
  
But he is the winter that ends all things. And she is the spring that starts life anew.   
  
“Dimitr-” The emperor gasps unable to complete his name, a simple arrow piercing her armour.  
  
_"Rest, there’s no need to work yourself to the bone."_  
  
She slumps over, gripping him in pain. He grasps her as firmly as his tired arms would let him.   
  
_"Alright, but only if you let yourself have a break."_  
  
  
  
  
He saw this coming. Saw this when they were only strangers, saw this when they became friends. He saw it all, and just watched it happen.   
  
Claude watches, he watches people for their weaknesses, the cracks in their armour. And he uses his charm and wit to pry those cracks wide open. He forces his eyes to graze on the sight of his once friends hunched together. Corpses now, but finally at peace in each other’s arms. Claude doesn’t miss the irony.  
  
They were always so different, ideals never matching, their tactics even worse. They were bound to tear each other apart. And the widest gap in their armour, was growing fond of all their friendships and their bonds. These two powerful nations would destroy themselves and all little Leicester had to do was wait, finish off what remains of the empire and kingdom, and claim the victory.   
  
_I win. _  
  
_“How long will you keep stumbling?”_  
  
For a moment the young Lord thinks Dimitri is still struggling for life. His voice echoing in his head. But no, this voice is younger. The voice of a young prince arguing with him on the road to the monastery.   
  
_“I have to make the right decisions so I can win.” To Claude, the answer was always easy._  
  
_“Sometimes the right decision doesn’t lead to winning.” _  
  
_ The von Riegan heir scoffs. “Try winning something first and then talk to me again.”_

_ Claude seeks to offend, but his words only cause the prince to smile. “I’ll accept that challenge.”_  
  
He had been alone. So alone in his world of politics. Alone in a room full of councilmen and traitorous allies. He was alone until one day, he wasn’t. One day, he stopped watching for weaknesses to exploit and simply watched. Watched the sun filled days turn into cold nights of warm blankets by the fireplace.  
  
Here he was limping from one decision to another. From one emotion to another.   
  
He wins.  
  
But what does he lose?  
  
  
  
  
Byleth supposes this is the final part in this cycle of life and death. The green leaves that were once part of a great tree, all reaching towards the sky, the future in unison, now lie fallen on the ground. The academy taught even the youngest of them how to die.  
  
Now they lie still as the first sign of snowfall floats gently toward their graves.

  
  
  
\- 25 JUL '19 

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this first in DA the night before the game came out.
> 
> Wrote this half asleep... woke up the next day with Edelgard dead. Whoops.  
I've had this scenario for a while now where Dimitri actually throws the fight but Edelgard and Claude live to regret.


End file.
